


A Matter of Perspective

by crookedneighbour



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Ableism, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcoholic Tony Stark, Anal Sex, Blackmail, Coercion, Competition, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Manipulative Quentin Beck, Multi, New Year's Eve, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Quentin Beck Being a Jerk, Statutory Rape, Threesome - M/M/M, Villain Quentin Beck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22068868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: Everyone craves their own truth.  Tony seeks absolution, Peter hopes for love, and Quentin aims for satisfaction. There's no better time to each find what they're looking for than New Year's Eve at Stark Industries.Or, in an AU where Peter has met Quentin while interning, everything spirals out of Tony’s control.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Quentin Beck/Peter Parker, Quentin Beck/Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Quentin Beck/Tony Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 83





	A Matter of Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> Only some beta.... we die like men.
> 
> Tony invented the iPhone equivalent here. I am an actual alcoholic.

It was New Year’s Eve in New York City. A light snow was turning to slush in the streets while the Empire State Building slowly cycled through a rainbow of displayed colors. Tony Stark stood in the employee lounge of Stark Industries, champagne flute in hand and seasonal decorations around him as his most deranged employee, possibly drunk, now spoke to a federally recognized child.

Tony already wasn’t thrilled about attending. He didn’t quite trust himself enough yet, and he didn’t want Pepper or Peter to see him like... well.... as broken. It was probably overdramatic to call himselftriggered, but he was definitely thinking about drinking a lot, the season reminded him of his first winter after Afghanistan, and how badly he handled it. Bruce had been kind enough to give him some pointers this year.

It still happened at weird times. Certain notes on overheard carols, walking past streets he had then, even wearing certain shirts, or if he ate the same foods as back then. It hadn’t hit him super hard at any one time, but rather it was a low grade urge to drink that hung over the entire season. He wished he could drink just a little more than he had been. Let himself forget it all for one night. Put the slow ache of December on pause. Except he couldn’t. He had an hour to make it through this champagne flute (his self-imposed schedule) before he could hit something harder again, and Beck was really trying him.

Quentin had grown increasingly erratic since the whole B.A.R.F. thing and was talking to Peter. Which was bad. Very bad. The kid had a good heart, but was too trusting. Quentin could make a good first impression, Tony had hired him after all, separate of whatever Looney Tunes tirade was happening in his mind.

Quentin wore an ugly Christmas sweater as per Janice’s suggestion, the garment depicting repeated white snow globes on a green background. Tony had not— Christmas was over as far as he was concerned (Sorry, Nat, Eastern Orthodoxy just didn’t win out in the US Of A). That and his whole eternal Freudian man child missing daddy thing, didn’t exactly warm him to Christmas. God, Tony really was a fucking mess. A genius engineer, an international hero, but also a god-damned mess.

Peter missed the memo and was simply in his internship hoodie with a button up white shirt and red tie underneath, eating a fistful of cheddar popcorn from a white and red bag if popcorn Quentin seemed to be sharing with him. He FaceTimes with Rhodey, for 5 seconds and this is happens apparently (Merry Christmas, hope you’re enjoying your vacation time, I’ve got a psycho to deal with, bye!).

Tony narrowed his eyes and approached the two of them. Peter had fallen into his rapt doe-eyed state, and Quentin was laughing at something the kid had said. Was it weird he was jealous? He was definitely jealous.

Tony cleared his throat.

“Quentin. I see you’ve introduced yourself to Peter Parker.”

Quentin turned sharply, resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder as he did so.

“Oh! Tony. We’ve met before this actually,” Quentin explained. Peter looked like he’d been caught red handed. He knew Tony was weird about him talking to other high ranking employees, even if it was an unfair standard.

“Your.... _intern_... here.”  Quentin put an emphasis on the word that made Tony uncomfortable.  “Your intern was supposed to be making copies and, uh...couldn’t find the machine. Could you believe that? They had him making copies? Someone as smart as him.”

Peter blushed immediately. Cute.

Quentin’s voice had a varying lilt and slight edge of volume that bordered on angry sounding. Tony though about interrupting his monologue, but Quentin continued.

“You were away.... You know, I don’t think other departments quite know what to do with him. No one around here seems to know how to manage intelligence.”

Quentin laughed at this, but his expression darkened enough for Tony to notice.

“Send him to me next time. I know how to make good use of him.”

Quentin gave Peter a pat on the back for emphasis then withdrew his hand. What exactly did he think Tony’s relationship with Peter was? A knot of anger formed in Tony’s stomach, and he suspected his pulse would have kicked up if he had a normal heart.

“Fascinating. I’ll keep you in mind, Beck,” Tony replied nonchalantly. “Peter, a word?”

“Sure, Mr. Stark!” 

Quentin frowned, but obliged Tony, stepping aside to go pour himself a ginger ale and chat with Janice.

Peter looked slightly wounded, his arms crossed in defiance.

“Did I do something wrong?” 

“No, no. Quentin, Mr. Beck if you will, he’s a great engineer, but a few cards short of a full deck,” Tony explained. “I don’t want you talking to him.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. Tony reflexively reached out and ruffled the kid’s hair. Thinking about that Quentin had touched Peter so casually still left a bad taste in his mouth.

However, Peter stepped back from the touch, and Tony clenched his teeth.

“Stop it. It’s not like he’s dangerous, and you know I can take care of myself,” Peter snapped. 

Yeah, the kid had super strength, but that wasn’t necessarily something to show off.

Tony looked from side to side. Quentin was happily drinking ginger ale still.

“I said no, Peter. He’s a weirdo, and I don't want him near you,” Tony insisted, he was raising his voice more than he meant to. “I’m not trying to be an asshole, kid. I care about you.”

“Well, you’re not succeeding,” Peter replied.

Tony stepped closer and Peter stood his ground. 

“What?”

He looked up with dour narrowed eyes, and slightly pouting lips. Looking at Peter’s lips this close felt a little strange, but he wasn’t clear headed right now.

“I said you’re not succeeding. You can’t order me around like other employees. It’s not fair. You know that.”

The kid was right, but Tony was still angry. There wasn’t a guidebook for this type of stuff. He knew what not to do (thanks, dad), but how did he still end up playing things wrong so often? Where was _7 Strategies to Raise Your Super Student_ when you needed it?

Tony stewed quietly. He wasn’t often at a loss for words. Conveniently, Guterman from PR stepped in.

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re out of the hard stuff and as one of your image men, it’s kinda my job to tell you that looks bad,” Gutes offered nervously.

“You’re right, Gutes,” Tony answered, still looking at Peter. “Stay here, Pete. I’ll be right back.”

“Whatever,” Peter sighed. Typical teenager. It’d be smart to cool off. He wasn’t nuts about leaving Pete here with Quentin, but he knew if they kept going he’d ending up yelling at the kid and that wasn’t what he wanted either.

Peter watched Tony leave with Guterman, who was also wearing an ugly sweater (it depicted the 8 planets, Pluto, and the Sun each wearing a Christmas hat). Peter sighed. Mr. Stark could be charming one moment and angry the next when he cared about something. 

Quentin Beck somewhat over dramatically played at scoping out the room, his hand held to his brow to mimic blocking the sun's glare, then returned to Peter.

“Everything ok, champ?” Quentin asked, smiling. He and Tony were both like that, they could smile at him and every worry he had melted away. 

“Yeah. Mr. Stark can just get kind of testy sometimes, you know how he is,” Peter replies, doing his best to laugh things off. Was Tony jealous of Mr. Beck? He didn’t seem dangerous. Peter wouldn’t ever ask to work with anyone else, even if he was hot in a younger Tony kind of way.

Did he just call Mr. Beck hot? Peter’s stomach flipped. Did he just call Tony hot? He knew he really liked Mr. Stark, and even liked him liked him, even though about certain types of stuff with him when he was alone, but he tried not to let himself think about Tony that way on the day to day. Tony was his mentor and way older than him... and hot. God damnit, he thought Mr. Stark was hot.

“Oh, I know. He’s my boss, remember?” Quentin teased. “I hope I’m not—“

Quentin paused and looked up, smirking at something.

“You’re a little young to be under the mistletoe, Peter,” Beck explained, laughing.

Peter looked up. Things were getting weird. He was making things weird (like that stupid werewolf meme), because he couldn’t stop having weird crushes on emotionally unavailable older men and other logistically poor choices of people.

“What? Oh gosh, I didn’t notice it,” Peter answered.

Peter's face flushed as Mr. Beck stepped closer to him. Quentin should be checking if anyone was looking, definitely not leaning in to kiss him, but instead he just locked eyes with Peter as he moved closer. 

God, he was even more good looking up close. This was stupid, very very stupid. Peter felt a little guilty for it, but kissing Mr. Beck actually seemed kind of nice even if it was a little scary. As long as Tony didn’t see, but Mr. Stark was on a booze run after all. Maybe it served him right. Why was Peter like this? Why had God made him just a bisexual little moron?

Quentin instead playfully nudged Peter back from where was standing. 

“There, you go. Since a certain someone isn’t here to keep you out of trouble,” Quentin said playfully.

“Stop....” Peter said softly, looking down. “I‘m not a little kid... I can make my own choices.”

Mr. Beck frowned, but didn’t look angry.

“You’re right. I’m sorry I made you feel like that,” Quentin offered in a similarly hushed tone. He rested a hand on Peter’s shoulder. Peter wished Tony would just apologize like that sometimes, say he was sorry rather than showing up with gifts two days later.

“If we can trust you with world class weapons, we can trust you to make your own decisions right?”

Quentin gave him an affirming squeeze, which Peter enjoyed quite a bit more than he let on.

In his fantasies of Tony, it was moments where he was firm but affectionate that really did Peter in. Older guys made him weak in the knees, in a way strong enough to make him forget how lonely he was sometimes.

“... so if I wanted to kiss you...?”

Quentin laughed at that and took a step back. Peter was easily faster though. He lunged forward and planted a kiss firmly on Quentin’s lips, though he needed to stand on his tip toes to do it.

Quentin shoved at him with enough strength to appear to be protesting, but Peter was genuinely stronger, nor did it seem like Quentin entirely minded the situation.

Peter tried wriggling his tongue against Quentin’s lips to show his enthusiasm, but Quentin gesture ended quickly. 

“Whoa there, kid,” Quentin insisted,

Peter could have sworn he felt a bit of extra pressure where their bodies met from Quentin’s groin. Did Mr. Beck just grind on him then? Peter’s stomach flipped again. This shouldn’t be hot as it was. Quentin was older. Tony was older. 

“I’m flattered, but I don’t like ending my nights as the one in the handcuffs.”

Oh. That wasn’t precisely a rejection. Handcuffs...? Meaning Peter was underage.... but also, if he did kiss Peter, he’d prefer to be the one doing the handcuffing. Presumably to Peter. He imagined the scratch of Mr. Beck’s beard, and the soft tickle of his tongue along Peter's neck as he squirmed in place. He’d have to save that thought for later.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Beck. I wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re a creep. Especially not Mr. Stark,” Peter apologized.

“ _Mr. Stark_ , already doesn’t like me very much,” Quentin matched Peter’s reverence as he said Tony’s name. 

“But here’s an idea, why don't we see if Mr. Stark needs some help?” Quentin asked with a tone that suggested that wasn’t entirely what he had in mind.

Mr. Beck had definitely stopped treating him like a child. Mr. Beck definitely wasn’t looking at him like a child. He was blatantly checking Peter out, eyes scanning him head to toe. Peter couldn’t help, but stand a little taller.

Thinking that Mr. Beck could really want him was a rush, scary and intoxicating at the same time.

“I don’t wanna spend all night uh... searching for Mr. Stark. Just a quick look... I don’t wanna get in trouble,” Peter replied, doing his best to follow Quentin’s code.

“You’re a real good kid aren’t you? Maybe a bit of a teacher’s pet though, huh?”

Quentin didn’t sound like he’s being mean. Instead, something about how he’s talking to Peter now feels dirty. Peter could imagine Mr. Beck murmuring “good boy,” and whoa did the thought excite him. Mr. Beck would be a bit domineering, but kind. He'd take it slow and ease him into each kiss, starting closer mouth and chaste, waiting for Peter to part his lips and invite him deeper.

Peter followed Quentin as he checked in with Janice, and one of the other engineers, William maybe?

“The kid and I are gonna make sure Mr. Stark’s doing alright,” Quentin explained. Peter nodded enthusiastically. No one seemed to question Quentin’s lie, or that he’d just kissed a minor.

The two of them left without ceremony, Quentin leading the way towards the elevators. Peter’s heart pounded in his chest, but Quentin acted as if there wasn’t a thing off about them absconding together.

Once they were a little past the elevators, and Quentin gave him another one of his smiles that turned Peter’s legs to jelly.

“Now where’s my favorite piece of jailbait?” Quentin asked, reaching for Peter by the tie.

“Oh,” Peter replied, startled. That was a strong word.

“Let’s try again, shall we?”

Peter was cute and surprisingly easy. Not that he was a slut, but he obviously had a thing for pleasing older men. Quentin could work with that. He leaned in more aggressively this time, and wrapped his arm around Peter’s waist as he kissed him.

Peter was soft and smooth faced, and his lips felt so much better know that Quentin could really enjoy himself. After a few small kisses, Peter was gasping beneath him already. Virgins were always fun. 

Peter obliged him at the first sign of tongue, awkwardly flicking his own in response. He was clumsy, but damn Quentin couldn’t wait to teach the kid how to suck dick. He suspected Peter was as fast a learner in the bedroom as he was in the rest of life.

Peter leaned into the embrace, clinging at the neck of Quentin’s sweater. He made a soft noise, before pulling back. 

“Mr. Beck we should probably stop,” he said, looking down sheepishly. He was flushed all over, but more noticeably he was rather visibly erect. He really just kept getting cuter. It wasn’t fair Tony kept his side piece in training locked away.

Though his own dick certainly hasn’t been opposed to kissing Peter, it wasn’t alone to get him hard yet. There was plenty of time for that though. The night, like Peter, was young.

“You’re young, catch the breeze the wrong way and that’ll happen. Don’t worry too much about it, alright?” Quentin reassured him. He had to be a little more careful. Calling him jailbait was probably a little much before. Quentin released Peter from his hold, though it took some willpower to not try pinching the kid’s ass first. 

Peter fidgeted at straightening out his shirt, beaming at Mr. Beck. Poor thing was still reeling from his first kiss. When he wanted something he took it though. Quentin didn't really practice self-control if he didn't have to.

“We really should check on Mr. Stark though. He should’ve been back by now,” Quentin added. 

“Do you think he’s ok?” 

The distraction worked.

“All work beef aside, it’s a hard time of year to be an alcoholic,” Quentin sighed. “I feel kinda bad for him.”

Peter's face soured. The kid was wrapped around his finger. The next part would be easy.

“What if his floor is locked?” Peter asked.

“Only one way to find out.”

The two of them headed back to the elevator, and Peter’s demeanor took on a jittery edge. He clearly didn’t have any good parenting, because what adult would make him clean up after his alcoholic mentor?

“It’ll be alright,” Quentin hummed softly, taking the opportunity to rub Peter’s lower back generously. His ass looked tight, and he was really looking forward to giving the kid a solid grope before splitting him open.

There was a ping from Quentin’s wrist watch. From Guterman. Tony was up there and needed some talking down from drinking more. Perfect. Get that man his wings, because Gutes really was a miracle worker.

The elevator opened to Guterman looking frantic as Tony aggressively waved a bottle of Jack Daniels in his direction.

“You have to go back downstairs,” Guterman hissed, looking to the opening elevator doors.

Tony’s head turned.

“Peter.” 

The bottle of whiskey shattered on the floor.

“Gutes, leave this to the kid and I, ok?” Quentin suggested, slowly stepping out of the elevator with a protective arm in front of Peter.

“What are you doing up here, Pete? I told you to stay away from Beck,” Tony groaned.

Guterman slunk back into the elevator as Peter easily shoved past Quentin and towards Tony. He was surprisingly strong for his size. Good to know. Could probably ride dick like a champ, but worth researching for other reasons.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark! Mr. Beck said you were an alcoholic, and you’d been gone a long time,” Peter blurted out.

Quentin looked back to Guterman, who gave him a small nod as the elevator doors closed. The three of them were alone in the penthouse.

“You called me an alcoholic?” Tony snapped, looking to Quentin. He didn’t exactly look like not an alcoholic.

“I have anger problems, and you’re an alcoholic. The cost of genius, right?” Quentin said with a shrug.

“In one case, yes.”

Quentin gritted his teeth. Let the bastard get his one liner in to feel big. Let him. 

“I know you two don’t like each other, but there’s broken glass, and maybe we should call Pepper and—-“ Peter was blabbering.

“Don’t,” from Quentin.

“Not Pepper," from Tony.

The two men cut Peter off simultaneously. Tony deflated a little at the mention of Pepper.

“I’m fine, kid. Really,” Tony added.

“Why don’t we take you to the guest bedroom, you have one right?” Quentin suggested, as if he hadn’t looked at the floor plan. “I’ll get the glass cleaned up with Pete and we can all act like tonight didn’t happen afterwards.”

Tony eyed him suspiciously.

“Come on Stark, we can go back to you cutting my budget in the morning and I won’t say anything,” Quentin added. “I promise. One unstable Stark Industries employee to another.”

Definitely lying there. Absolutely lying. Maybe this was the most lying he had done all night. It was hard not to laugh.

Peter nudged his arms around Tony, who begrudgingly let the kid support his weight. He ought to look into the kid more, there was something weird about how strong he was. Peter looked fairly stick-like, but carrying Tony clearly wasn’t a problem.

Peter knew where the guest bedroom was, and Quentin followed quietly, double checking his spare phone was still in his pocket. It’d be stupid to do this on a Stark Industries networked phone, so he picked up a spare and made sure to not connect to the WiFi.

The guest bedroom was bigger than most bedrooms were in New York. Quentin had been hoping it’d be a king sized bed for logistical reasons, but the queen size would make do. The room was mostly decorated in dark blue and a night stand hung by the bed. Hopefully for Peter, it had lube in it.

Tony flopped on top of the sheets, smiling up at Peter. Peter was clearly relieved. 

“I’m sorry you saw me like this kid, but I promise it’s not as bad as it looks. I’ve done enough benders to know,” Tony offered, squeezing Peter’s hand.

Peter nodded along. It was all so sickeningly sweet. Conveniently, Quentin was here to ruin it.

“You should give Mr. Stark a good night kiss,” Quentin interrupted. Peter’s face went pale immediately, his body tightening in response.

“This is why I make you go to therapy, Quentin,” Tony sighed. “Just go clean up the glass then stay the hell away from Peter.”

Quentin laughed.

“Oh I already kissed him,” Quentin added with a shrug. “Put my tongue in his mouth and everything.”

Tony shot up in bed immediately, Peter grabbing him to redirect his attention.

“I started it Mr. Stark, please don’t be mad, I was angry at you and—“

“Peter, Pete, kiddo. I told you not to talk to him. That he’s weird. And apparently he’s a god-damned kiddie diddler, which I can fire him for and search his work computer,” Tony snapped, glowering over Peter’s arms at Quentin.

Quentin raised his eyebrows and grimaced in mock outrage, then held up one finger as he spoke.

“Tony, please. One, Peter is a young man who can make his own decisions.”

Quentin switched to two fingers as he continued his list.

“Two, it’s clear that you’re jealous. Peter is too trusting to see that you’ll fuck anything that moves,” Quentin replied.”

“What did you just say?” Tony snarled. Peter looked back at Quentin, shaking his head as if to gesture to him to back down.

“I said you clearly want to nail him, and you’re just pissed off I kissed your fantasy fuck in training,” Quentin continued.  “I’m sorry I put it like that, Pete, but it’s fucked up. Tony here is engaged to be married and he’s grooming you for when you’re 18.”

Peter’s eyes went wide, frozen as the two men fired back and forth at each other. Tony moved to rise from bed.

“JARVIS?” Tony began raising his voice.

“Yes, sir?” answered the AI.

Before Tony could speak again Peter dove in to kiss him.

Thank god. Things almost got out of hand there.

“Sir?” repeated JARVIS. Peter straddled Tony’s hips as he continued the kiss, widening his mouth for Tony’s tongue.

”Nothing,” Tony replied, reluctantly.

“There. You two are even now. Please. Stop. I like you both,” Peter urged. Tony had reflexively gone for Peter’s waist, but wasn’t shoving him off like a good mentor ought to be.

“Pete, you don’t have to do this,” Tony murmured, his eyes glassy and half-lidded. Quentin took out his new phone and took his first picture, Tony happily staring at Peter spread across his lap.

“It’s time for both of you to go. This has gotten strange enough for one night,” Tony decided, still not shoving Peter aside.

Quentin eyed the length of Peter’s thighs. He looked good. Ready.

“I don’t think so. I think I have plenty of reason to stay.” Quentin flipped his phone to face Peter and Tony. “I think the kid’s first time ought to be special.”

Peter let out a startled noise.

“You know what you’re doing is very illegal, right?” Tony asked.

“If you wanna take me to court I’m happy to tell everyone About how do you spent your New Year’s Eve with your dick hard against Peter Parker’s ass,” Quentin retorted, moving towards the bed. “Peter, be a darling and take your shirt off.”

“Please, Mr. Stark. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a really long time. You’re always so cool, and you always know what to do,” Peter explained, biting his lip nervously. Quentin wasn’t sure if Peter realized how serious he was about the blackmail, or if he just thought Quentin wanted him badly enough to fight for it. “I can be good for both of you, and no one has to get in trouble.”

Peter slipped his hoodie off casually, while planting another kiss on Tony’s lips. This time Peter rested his hands near Tony’s lower stomach, and Tony leaned up into the kiss. 

Quentin kicked his dress shoes off idly and moved to the bed, and knelt behind Peter as Tony pulled back.

“Peter. Kid. I’m not strong enough to resist you asking like that. Don’t hate me. I know it’s not fair. You’re way too young and I’m practically married,” Tony asked. “And maybe a bit shit-faced too. Pardon my French.”

Peter shook his head and ground slightly against Tony. Quentin was functionally being ignored. Whatever. Quentin took to unbuttoning Peter’s shirt and loosening his tie, amidst their hormonal love confession.

“I’d never hate you Mr. Stark. Maybe you annoy me sometimes, but you couldn’t make me hate you,” Peter insisted. “I’m almost an adult. You just have to let me be one.”

Peter twitched as Quentin ran his hands along the smooth skin of his chest, giving Peter’s pecs a testing squeeze. He was tight all over for sure. Peter shines as Quentin tried gently pinching each of his erect nipples.

Peter frowned.

“I know that wasn’t the real you, Mr. Beck. I know you’re just mad Tony has something you wanted.... I know you wouldn’t hurt me, and you’re just trying to rattle Mr. Stark,” Peter continued, arching his back as Quentin explored his abs. “You don’t have to show off. You came to help Tony even though he doesn’t like you, and you were jealous of him....”

Quentin looked down at Tony tentatively from behind Peter. Peter’s voice cracked as he spoke, and began to awkwardly grind down against Tony.

“And oh god this is embarrassing, but maybe it was kind of hot to think you liked me... that you like me enough to..... not like you’d really force me to do anything... but that you’d talk dirty to me and pin me down till I admitted I wanted you... in like a hot older dude way. Is that messed up?” Peter's sentences were all run ons.

That was the thing that finally got Quentin erect. Poor little Peter wanted it hard and deep bad enough to see the best in Quentin even when all signs pointed otherwise.

“We’re going to make you very happy. You won’t feel bad at all by the end,” Quentin responded. He wasn’t sure if he really cared about if Peter enjoyed it. Sure he wanted Peter to scream his name while Tony watched, but was that the same thing? “And you’re right. Maybe I got a little out of hand back there. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“See, Mr. Stark? I knew I could fix it. I wanna make you feel good too. You always take care of me, and everyone else, but never yourself. I know you’re drunk.... maybe I’m not being fair either... but uh... this is embarassing too... you and another guy is kind of a fantasy of mine.”

Peter gave Tony another kiss, but this time Quentin landed a kiss on Peter’s neck in turn, sucking and biting his way down to Peter’s shoulder.

Tony helplessly joined his role in the kiss, tugging at Peter’s tie to pull him closer. Quentin gave a little more teeth in response, and Peter whimpered at one of the harder bites, and pulled back from likely sucking on Tony’s tongue.

“Fuck, Pete. For Christ’s sake I can’t say no. Just don’t expect me to play nice entirely,” Tony grunted, wrapping a hand around the back of Peter’s head.

“I bet you’ve wanted his pretty mouth on your dick since you saw him. You should be thankful I saved you that,” Quentin interrupted.

“Shut up, Beck. Talking to you wasn’t in either deal,” Tony japed in return. “But yes, kid, if you’re feeling brave that’s a good place to start.”

Peter leaned forward so he was on all fours on top of Tony now.

“I’m not sure how to.....”

“Take his clothes off. We’re both gonna be inside you so you might as well. I think you’d look cute getting spit-roast personally,” Quentin explained, peeling his ugly Christmas sweater off. 

Peter let out a small shocked noise.

“You truly are a disgusting person,” Tony commented. “Ease the kid into it a little more, would you?”

“You’re the one in a threesome with me,” Quentin answered.

“Is that what this is?” Tony asked.

“Can you two stop? It’s not a competition.” Peter sounded genuinely concerned, but all three of them knew he liked the attention now. What a perfect slut he was going to make, always eager for Quentin to fawn over him.

Peter undressed Tony slowly, leaving small kisses behind as he revealed more skin. Tony grunted as Peter moved lower along his torso, his dark body hair getting thicker closer to his groin.

Tony was in good-shape for his age, although a bit of pudge still coat the muscle he’d built up. Peter clearly dug the dadbod situation based on the red marks he was leaving up and down Tony. Hopefully for Tony, Pepper wouldn’t find them. Hopefully for Quentin, she would.

Tony quickly threw the rest of his top off as Peter sucked at the skin of his lower stomach, gasping occasionally as Peter found an extra sensitive spot. Tony was easy in his own way too.

“That’s a good boy, Peter. Give it to daddy nice and slow—“

“Mis-mister Stark,” Peter stuttered out.

There we go. That’s the person Quentin knew he was.

“Oh? Does someone wanna suck off his daddy Stark?” Quentin teased, eyeing Peter’s increasingly arched up ass. “I knew you’d turn out to be the perfectcocksucker.”

“I just wanna be good,” Peter answered before lapping at the patch of skin below Tony’s navel.

As Tony unzipped himself, loosing his cock for Peter, Quentin followed suit in lowering his trousers, but kept his underwear on. He placed his stiffened member between the clefts of Peter’s pert ass, happy to start with a bit of dry humping. He wanted Peter begging for Quentin’s cock before he spread him,

“Just focus on, daddy, alright? Daddy’s here for you, Pete. I know you’ll do great,” Tony purred, returning his hands to Peter’s scalp.

Quentin gripped Peter’s hips to arch him just a little higher and hit that perfect spot to grind against. He could feel the squeeze of Peter’s cheeks this way, while still watching him nuzzle Tony‘s cock.

“I don’t want you finishing him till my cock’s inside you. Is that clear?” Quentin snarled, dogging his nails in to one of the available patches of skin. “I want you to get him nice and close, then I’m gonna strip you down and fuck you senseless while he watches.”

“Yes, sir.” Peter nodded obediently. It wasn’t clear which of them he was responding to, but the submission in his voice made Quentin’s arousal spread to into a heat in his stomach and thighs. Edging and cucking Tony would certainly be a nice touch.

“Take it out and just suck the tip a little first, you’ve got all night to learn, honey,” Tony cooed. 

Peter carefully placed his lips to the head of Tony’s cock, kissing it a few times softly before opening his mouth.

“Oh what a good boy you are, just like that,” Tony gasped, his breath hitching between syllables.

As Peter closed his lips around Tony’s erection Quentin drove his hips a bit harder than he had, Peter taking more of Tony’s dick down in surprise.

“Cut it out, Beck. The kid’s trying his best,” Tony admonished.

Quentin sighed in frustration.

“Maybe I should just take his briefs off and fuck him so hard he deep throats you. I bet your dick would thank me.”

Peter’s head began to bob up and down in earnest which finally shut Tony up. 

“Isn’t that what you want, Peter? To be skewered on both our cocks with your pants still around your ankles?” Quentin added, slinking his right hand to the front of Peter’s groin.  “Let’s see if our cute little intern is hard again, I bet you’re sticky for both your daddies aren’t you?”

Peter gave a desperate “mmhmm” noise amidst the sound of him slurping at Tony. Quentin bit his own lip softly, and firmly curled his hand around Peter’s hard on.

“Your mouth, Pete.... Just a little deeper for me, take it nice and deep for daddy,” Tony urged.

It was gonna be rough going in with no lube, but Peter didn’t know enough to refuse. Not to mention he’d look good clenching his teeth and crying into Tony’s chest.

Quentin moved off of Peter’s hips, so he could lower the kid’s pants down to his thighs, and watch him squirm from the restriction. God, seeing his ass in just his tight white briefs was heavenly too. He could see every bulge and curve of everything his pretty slice of virgin ass was serving up. Peter Parker’s cherry was on a silver platter, for Quentin to have the first taste.

Quentin returned to cupping Peter’s growing with his left hand, while he probed Peter’s perineum with his first two fingers, teasing his way up to Peter’s hole.

“I think we should be naked soon. I think you’d like to rub that cute little cock against Mr. Stark’s and cum across his stomach. And I’m getting tired of just looking at such a pretty piece of ass,” Quentin suggested. 

Peter pulled himself off of Tony’s member and licked at his length a few times to keep him stimulated.

“Can we do that daddy? I wanna be a good boy and feel your cock on me too,” Peter pleaded. Hearing Peter say the word finally was right out of Quentin’s hopes for the evening, but he wanted to be the one Peter said it to first.

Tony sighed. 

“Kid, I’d eat your ass right now if you wanted it. Daddy can’t say no when you ask like that.”

Quentin wasn’t taking no for an answer right now so took the liberty of resuming undressing already.

“There’s an idea,” Quentin responded. “Get him good and wet while I get a go at his mouth. It’s only fair you share those pretty lips with both of us.”

Amidst the fumble of everyone finishing undressing, Peter turned to get his first look of Quentin’s body. Now that the kid had a bit of dick in him, he was less abashed about blatantly licking his lips as he studied Quentin’s body. He was a bit leaner and harder than Tony of course, but Peter obviously didn’t discriminate in that category. Quentin hadn’t bothered paying attention to Tony’s dick size, because the whole giant tower with my name on it kinda screamed compensation.

Peter was pale and slender, but damn was the kid chiseled all over. He was largely hairless with smooth skin, that looked perfect to leave streaked with cum.

“Mr. Beck,” Peter said softly. “You uh... you look really good.”

“You too, kid,” Quentin said with a laugh. It might serve him well to show some gentleness.

“There’s plenty to suck on, so start wherever you like. It might be hard to think with a tongue almost inside you. I’ll stand by the edge of the bed so Tony has plenty of room to position himself.”

Peter crawled forward as Quentin debarked from the bed, Tony himself also kneeling to better meet the level of Peter’s ass.

Quentin held Peter by the hair with one hand while guiding his erection to Peter’s lips with the other.

“Whose cock are you gonna suck now, Pete?”

“Yours, sir. I’m gonna suck it hard,” Peter tried, clearly still a little nervous about his dirty talk.

“Spread that pretty ass, why don’t you Stark? I bet you’ve wanted to bend him over your desk and bury your face between his cheeks since you saw him in those tight jeans.”

Peter moaned as Tony did so, likely feeling a little more vulnerable than he had yet. As Tony’s face pressed up against his ass the noise turned into a whine of pleasure.

“Oh Mr. Stark I feel your tongue. Oh god is that my...?”

He was gonna have to deep throat the kid to keep his attention, wasn’t he?

Quentin tugged Peter’s hair playfully.

“Open wide, daddy’s boy. I’ve got something a little thicker this time,” Quentin cooed. 

Peter’s mouth was already coated with pre-cum, but everything about him was perfect. Peter’s tongue made fast small motions along the bottom side of his dick, and his pink lips made a very pretty “o.” Not to mention, Peter barely fought it as Quentin leaned forward and tugged till he could feel the flex of Peter’s throat. 

God damn, deep throating was his favorite way to get head. Peter, or whatever disposable twink he got himself, helplessly flexing around his member, moaning as he rammed the back of their throat. He ought to make Peter cry like this, fuck the little size queen till he was sobbing on his dick.

Tony meanwhile was preoccupied with teasing Peter to the brink of orgasm. He alternated between licking the length of Peter’s perineum and just licking at his outer ring till Peter’s legs began to shake.

Peter let out a more urgent repeated noise as they continued like this.

“You close, Pete?” Tony asked pausing as he licked the inner curve of Peter’s right cheek.

“I don’t want you finishing yet,” Quentin reminded him, reluctantly pulling his dick from the depths of Peter’s throat. It was getting difficult not to finish as well. “I want you smothered between us, and rutting like a bitch in heat”

Peter looked dazed as the two men released him. He was likely overstimulated and ready to climax the first moment they let him.

“Lay on top of Mr. Stark, and arch that tight ass up for me,” Quentin instructed. 

Tony wrapped his arms possessively around Peter as they settled into spooning.

“You feel good, Mr. Stark,” Peter hummed. 

Quentin rejoined them and did his best to leverage himself to easily enter Peter. He was wet with saliva but it would still hurt the kid for sure. Which was pretty hot of course.

“Brace yourself, Peter,” Quentin warned, giving his first shove. Wow it was good. He was just a little bit in, but Peter was very tight.

Peter yelled as Quentin rocked his hips a little deeper with each stroke. 

“I’m here. You’re alright. Just breathe slow,” Tony reassured him. Despite his borderline crying Peter was still rubbing himself against Tony.

“Just a little deeper. Just a little deeper and I can fuck you right,” Quentin added.

The three of them ground in place like this for a moment, the two older men each muttering their comforts as Peter squirmed beneath the two of them. Between their different types of bulk compared to him, he reminded Quentin of a pinned insect slowly dying. Spasms of pleasure and pain squeezed Quentin tight inside Peter, quickly returning him to the edge of orgasm.

“I want you to come first, baby boy. You’ve been so good to both of us, you deserve to finish. Show us what an eager dick you have,” Quentin began. Peter nodded in agreement.

“I want to, Mr. Beck. I wanna cum so bad. Tell me I’m good again,” he begged. 

“Oh Peter. You’re the best lay I’ve had. You’re gonna be the perfect little office boy. I wanna take you in the men’s room and fuck you so hard you go to school with a limp,” Quentin grunted. Shame Peter didn’t have a school uniform. 

“You’re a good kid, Pete. You’re brave, and you’re loving. You’re not afraid to be generous,” Tony gushed. “You see the best in people. Even me. Even Beck.”

Enough with the heart felt crap again. But that was apparently what did it for Peter Parker. Peter whined incoherently as his hips bucked, then slumped back down momentarily later. The twitching of Peter’s climax finally meant Quentin could let himself cum.

“You’re such a good fuck. Just a tasty little side piece waiting to get fucked,” Quentin gasped. As he muscles began to slow and dick softened he let himself lean on the pile the two others made more.

“Come on, Tony. Show your intern what his mentor thinks of him. How a married man’s been waiting to tap that fine ass he has.”

Quentin didn’t really care if Stark came or not but it’d mean he could call it a night sooner after his own orgasm. The two lovebirds could have the cuddling to themselves. Quentin would be happy with a hot shower then jerk off session to his mental best of reel. Sometimes sex didn’t feel real till he played it as a movie in his head.

Tony’s orgasm was about as dignified as Quentin would expect for a drunk guy fucking a teenager. His eyes were screwed shut as he murmured Peter’s name over and over. 

For a moment or two the three of them just laid there each processing what they’d done. Peter had lived the fantasy of being so loved it took two men to do it. Quentin had humiliated the man he resented, and gotten at least one blackmail pic (as well as a very nice time with the office pretty boy). Tony had a much less pleasant night, the cost of his years of cycling between self-aggrandizing and self-hatred not being his to pay, but Peter’s and Peppers. Quentin found himself aware of that each of these versions of the night were very real, depending on who you asked. 

“I forgot about the glass,” Quentin mumbled.

“Me too,” replied Tony.

“Don’t leave yet. I just want you both to spoon me,” said Peter.

“As long as you’re in the middle,” declared Tony.

The three of them rolled into place in the guest bed. It was cramped, especially sweaty and spent as they were, but it worked. Quentin could spend a few minutes longer if he had to.


End file.
